Buffer
by Canadino
Summary: Part 3, Polish AU. Now Francis had asked many times, "Now what does she see in him?" Personally, Alfreda didn't know herself. fem!US/UK


**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: ---

---

Buffer

Contacts, check. Makeup, check. Fashionably mussy hair, check. Top three buttons on blouse unbuttoned, check. Front clasp bra…

Where did it go?! She swore she put it on this morning! Instead of her familiar polka dotted favorite flirtatious bra, she was wearing something white with red maple leaves on them. Ah, damn Mattie! She must have grabbed the wrong bra in the bathroom!

Well, no matter. Alfreda quickly patted her hair down to ensure no wild strands (other than one she affectionately called Nantucket, as that was the place where she had discovered that particular kink in her blonde hair would be untamed by all means). "You look good," she told herself, never minding that she was talking to herself in the girls' room. Giving herself one last three-sixty in the mirror (yes, skirt was rolled up and the eye-pulling pendant of the American flag confidently pulled all eyes to her cleavage, _YES!_), Alfreda stepped out into the hallway to break some hearts.

The first thing she might have broken that morning, though, might have been Arthur's nose, since she had swung open the door so suddenly and violently that he nearly walked right into it.

"Oh my god, Arthur~!" Gathering up the startled third year in her arms (and pressing him to her chest, _yeah_), Alfreda fussed about him like a mother. "I'm so sorry! I should have watched before I opened the door like that!"

"Well…yes…" Arthur sputtered before he managed to slip out of Alfreda's grasp before she started swinging him around affectionately. "Good morning, Alfreda."

Alfreda beamed, playing the shy girl card. Toying with her necklace, which delivered its desired effect as Arthur's eyes ran down the chain to where her fingers were and back up to her face with a slight flush on his face. "Good morning, Arthur," she said, writhing a bit.

"Are you cold? It's slightly chilly in the building…you can borrow my coat if you'd like…"

"Would I?!" Alfreda shrieked, grabbing the coat out of his hands before he had a chance to hold it out to her. So what if he was smaller and shorter than she was? So what if it wasn't as cool as her aviator jacket? It was Arthur's! "Thank you, Arthur!"

"You're welcome…if you'll excuse me, I've got to head to the student council room. I left some papers in there I forgot to get yesterday." He made to walk around her, but Alfreda turned on her heel and followed him doggedly.

"Well, we all forget things from time to time!" she chirped, her Dr. Strangelove missile earrings dangling from her ears. Not only had she been a part of the cult following for that movie, but she had even bought a cowboy hat and had started to the nearest space station to ask if she could ride a rocket (her stepsister Mattie had put a stop to that). There was an awkward silence that fell between them, as was normal between two students of different years.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak when Alfreda quickly cut in, "How about you pick me up at seven then?"

The third year gave her an incredulous look. "What are you talking about?"

"Of course, I'd have to know where we're going. If we're going to be outside, I'd wear tights. If we're going to a party, I'd wear fishnets. So where's the game?"

Arthur stopped, standing in the middle of the hall, looking skeptical at Alfreda. Normally, Alfreda would wonder why on earth she had fallen for such a scrawny, grumpy, thick-eye browed senior, but that was questions for another universe. Blinking her sparkly eye-shadowed eyes, Alfreda plastered on innocence.

"Listen, Alfreda…" Arthur had long stopped sounding amused. "It's not like I don't like you as a person. I like you fine. But I'm not going to ask you on a date any time soon."

"Alright then, how about I ask you? Do you want to go to Francis's party on Friday with me?"

"I refuse to go anywhere that pervert goes."

"Aw, but you know he's going out with Mattie. And he doesn't seem that bad."

Arthur rubbed his temples. "Obviously you've never served a student council year with him. The fact of the matter is, Alfreda, as much as I'm flattered with your feelings for me, I have to politely decline."

Alfreda let her eyes go wide; well, she wasn't acting anymore – she was genuinely shocked. "What? Arthur! Don't be intimidated by my size! I'm not like Ivana! God, she's a stocky girl. I just play a lot of sports, okay? I can bench press my own weight! Is it wrong to be a manly girl?!"

"I never said you were a manly girl," Arthur said quickly.

"Damn right! Look at them!" Alfreda shouted, slapping her hands on her chest. "Texas and the Alamo! Look at them!" Pushing her boobs up, she continued despite Arthur's determination not to look at them. "I'm a girl, Arthur! I'm a girl! Oh, is it because I'm younger than you? So what?! A lot of boys in the third year sleep with second year girls! Or maybe I'm an embarrassment to you?! Student council president?!"

She was getting frantic. To stop herself from raging on, she quickly popped a stick of watermelon gum in her mouth.

"Alfreda…" Arthur closed his eyes, trying to find the right words. "First of all, please…let go of your chest." Alfreda let her arms drop. "Second of all…has it crossed your mind that I only want to be friends with you? I'm not saying there's something I don't like about you. There's just…a line between friendship and relationship and I'm not ready to cross that line yet with you."

Alfreda stared at him for a moment. "Ah-ha!" she shouted, pointing a purple nail at him. "I got you in your tracks, buster! Playing hard to get! Ooh! Why didn't I think of that before!" Hugging him (face to chest, of course, in typical Alfreda style), she bounced off to class. "I'll see you later, Arthur! Don't forget to mention me to the other student council members!"

--

"…I said that, but that main deal is that Arthur doesn't like me!" Alfreda wailed, sitting next to her sister on the roof of the school building. She was sitting cross-legged (forgetting or not that she was in a skirt), her head in her hands, which were also holding Arthur's coat. Mattie, her more modest sister with her legs tastefully together in a skirt at the dress code length, watched her amusedly, taking a sip from a juice box.

"He's said he wasn't interested all the time, yeah," Alfreda complained, her voice loud enough to not be muffled by the coat, "but this is the first time he said he didn't want to 'cross the line' with me! And I don't think this is his him being the prudish gentleman he is!"

"First, Alfreda," Mattie said, putting the juice box down, "stop inhaling the coat. It's weird listening to you smell it."

"It smells like Arthur!" Alfreda shouted, shoving the coat toward Mattie. "Want a sniff?"

"No!" Mattie reached for her sandwich, which in Alfreda's depression, had not been first eaten by her ravenous sister. "Might it cross your mind that you should give him some space?"

"Matilda!" Mattie cringed at her full name, but Alfreda persisted. "Matilda Williams! You may be my half sister, but that doesn't excuse you from not knowing your own sister well! I don't care if your dad wanted to bang my mom and that's why they got married, but listen well, girl! When you like someone, you bite down and don't let go!"

"That's not how it works," Mattie insisted.

"Oh yeah? How about when Francis first told you he was interested to see what was beneath your innocent school girl exterior? What did you do? You didn't run away! Hell, everyone knows you let him kiss you in the boys' locker room after school!"

"Don't say that in such a loud voice!" Mattie gripped her sandwich, almost spurting out the mayo. "You make me sound easy."

"Well, I suppose not since you're into the sex-after-marriage thing."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Mattie put her sandwich down before she could throw it in her sister's face. "I'll bite, alright? What are you scheming, Alfreda?"

"I don't know yet!" Alfreda crossed her arms stubbornly, staring up at the sky. "But when I think of it, I'll tell you!" With that, she tore into her lunch, leaving Mattie to shift away before she could get caught in the eating crossfire.

"I don't get it," Alfreda continued whining, her mouth full of hamburger. "If Francis can fall for you with your pretty wavy hair and shy girl with glasses look, then why can't Arthur like me?"

"Maybe because you get up in his face?" Mattie offered, looking a bit put-out by her sister's horrible manners.

Although the two had been one of the first ones to go up to the roof for lunch, the roof was starting to become more populated. Antonio had stumbled up there with Romina in tow and the two were quietly making out in the corner behind the maintenance equipment. Peter, Arthur's irritating little first year brother, was telling loud, made-up stories to the only person who would listen, an easily bossed-around second year Raivis. Ivana, Alfreda's lone rival, had gone up to eat with her over-protective brother Nate (rumored to walk around with a steak knife in his bag), but at least she had only shot Alfreda a nasty look.

Now Francis was walking toward them and Mattie had stood up. Alfreda had noticed that for all her talk, her sister was dusting off her skirt in a way that made it flip up suggestively with every pat.

"Hey, Mattie…" Francis's voice was smooth as peanut butter. "I don't want to disrupt a sister-to-sister conversation, but I'd like to eat lunch with you, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind!" Mattie had cried, although Alfreda had given Francis a similar 'I hate you' look she had given to Ivana.

"Don't fret, cutie pants," Francis said sympathetically, taking Mattie's hand. "If it's any solace, Arthur wouldn't stop talking about you during the lunch meeting I had to skip since I couldn't stand it anymore."

"Really?! What was he saying about you?"

"Things," Francis said mysteriously, pulling Mattie along. "Oh, that she won't get off his back and stuff like that," he added in an undertone when Alfreda was out of earshot. "But who knows? He's a strange kid. Maybe he likes your sister in his odd way of his."

"I wish," Mattie agreed. "I can't stand listening to her anymore."

--

"Party at my house!"

Mattie looked up from the Cosmo magazine in her hand. Kumajirou, her white bear-looking German Shepard looked up from its post at the foot of her bed. Alfreda had just burst into her room, ignoring the courtesy of knocking.

"Excuse me?"

"I got it! It's part five-hundred and ten in my list of Win-Arthur's-Heart Plan! A house party!" Alfreda flourished a finger. "I was moisturizing when I came up with it!"

"That explains why you still have cream on your face," Mattie mused, turning back to her magazine. "But I'd like to see you explain that to our parents."

"They won't be here. As luck would have it, which was why I was planning this in the first place, they told me that they were going to some sort of parenting conference a city away over the weekend! Because they trust you, they're letting us loose! And because I trust you, I'm going to have a party."

"I think you should be worried they're going to a parenting conference in the first place," Mattie muttered darkly. "And why should I _not_ tell on you or participate in your illegal fun?"

"Because," Alfreda said, flexing her fingers threateningly, "I'll tell Francis how when you were getting ready for your first date with him, you were so anxious about your novice kissing abilities that you practiced with Kumajirou!"

Kumajirou whimpered appropriately.

"You wouldn't say that!" Mattie squealed, looking livid.

"Ah-ha! So you _did_! Ha, just checking. Anyway, you'd better not tell. You've got dirt on me, but I've also got dirt on you. And anyway, come on. A party at this house? It's huge! I've got a whole guest list planned up! I practically invited everyone in the second year and their respective others. I don't want to snub anyone."

"You say this like you've sent out the invites."

"I just did, by email."

"And _now_ you tell me?!"

Alfreda giggled very uncute. "It's happening, whether you like it or not, sister! So you get ready. Oh…and get that mutt out of here. No one wants to see that bear."

"It's a dog! And I'm not kicking Kuma out!"

Alfreda made a face. "Well, I guess I understand. After all, a house party provides a home advantage and you want to be at your best with Francis."

"Damn you! Get out of my room!"

--

Alcohol was a helpful tool. Sure, he didn't want to use it, as it was illegal and any heroine wouldn't jeopardize her future with illegal activities, but it truly worked wonders. Especially if the guests didn't know she had poured it in each of the bottles of Izze so that the caps were unusually easy to open.

But really, unless alcohol was involved, who was Felicia fooling? Unless the fellow partiers were blind and deaf, anyone could see she was making out with Ludwig behind the little grove of trees. Granted, Ludwig was probably hardly tipsy with the heavier stuff he indulged in, but he didn't seem to put up much of a fight. Her sister wasn't too far behind; sure, Romina and Antonio were sitting on the couch like a normal couple, but one of Antonio's hands was missing and Romina's face was unusually red.

Alfreda watched her getting-drunk-and-rowdy attendees with improved admiration on alcohol's effects. Seems that parents and television didn't lie. She herself hadn't touched a drop, willing to watch and intervene (like a true heroine) and she wanted to be sober enough so that when Arthur did reveal his true feelings under the influence, she wanted to be ready.

Where was he, in the first place? She had looked around the living room, where several students were sprawled, giggling over an ad for hair growth. Alfreda and Mattie had made sure all delicates and fragiles were removed from the premises (Mattie being a stickler to the rules, and therefore was good at covering tracks), but she was sure Leia and Remy were going to break the pool table anyway. Leia was brandishing around her pool stick like a successful Viking and Remy, who wasn't one to talk much, revealed to have a much dirtier mouth than expected. Pretending not to notice the girls' obvious sexual tension, she turned to see Tina giving Berwald what looked like a lap dance.

"This is getting out of hand," Mattie murmured. She had appeared next to Alfreda, holding a bowl of chips, and as sober as her sister. "Maybe we should start letting people out."

"Yeah right. The night is still high."

"You mean, you haven't found Arthur yet."

"Right-o. Where's Francis?"

"Someone called?" Mattie squealed as a pair of arms enveloped her waist and Francis's perverted shaggy head appeared. "I think someone needs to tell Miguel to get off the table or he might start swinging on the chandelier."

"What?" Mattie quickly freed herself from Francis's grip and rushed to the dining room to pull her Cuban friend off the table. "Miguel, get off there!"

"How much alcohol did you nick exactly?" Francis asked.

"My parents have a secret wine cellar in the basement they never check up on. They don't know I know, and it's going to stay that way."

"I'm not helping you clean up. If I stay, I'm only helping Mattie."

Ivana scooted by, looking strangely happy and holding a pipe she found in the basement and a bottle of vodka that Alfreda had never seen before. She suspected the Russian brought it herself; she wouldn't be surprised.

"Great party, Alfreda!" Ivana slurred, using the pipe as a cane. "I still hate your guts, though…" With a stumble, she giggled her way into the foyer.

"I assume you were looking for Arthur?" Francis asked.

"Maybe I wasn't."

"He's outside, on the balcony. I think he still thinks we're on school grounds. He was telling Felicia and Ludwig off for inappropriate PDA. You'd better stop him or his grouchy pants will ruin everything."

Alfreda made a face, trying to make it appear that she didn't care either which way. "I guess I will. It's my party, after all."

"Yes, and it's a smashing one." Almost on cue, there was a smashing of glass and Mattie's voice floated through the air.

"Miguel! Christ Jesus, get off the china cabinet! Francis, can you come help?"

"_Oui, mon cheri_!"

True to Francis's word, Arthur was leaning over the balcony, holding a closed bottle of fizzy drink and shouting out at Felicia, who was still trying to hide with Ludwig. "Felicia Vargas, I can still see you! Ludwig, get her out of there. You two aren't fooling anyone."

"Great party, right?" Alfreda beamed, settling herself next to Arthur.

"Complete with booze, am I right?" Arthur flourished the bottle. "You didn't trick anyone. It reeks of alcohol. Thankfully, no one in the student council bothered to drink any."

Sure, Alfreda thought. Arthur must not have seen Saysha; the pigtailed new student was flourishing a rubber fish in the sitting room, shouting something about her ancestry in Seychelles.

"What was your plan?" Arthur asked. "You invited almost the entire student body. Or if you didn't, someone did." When Alfreda looked surprised, he pointed to the bonfire someone had started. Peter was dancing around like an idiot – and Alfreda doubted he had any to drink in the first place.

"First years weren't supposed to come," Alfreda protested, pouting.

"Well, they did." There was a slight pause, before Arthur let out a hiccup.

"Arthur Kirkland!" Alfreda shouted, looking astonished and trying to hold in a triumphant grin. "I thought you said you didn't drink!"

"I did…oh, screw it." Knocking the bottle top off with a few well-placed raps on the balcony ledge, he downed half the bottle before staring listlessly out, where a hidden Felicia had started squealing. "You know half the population is going to be sleeping somewhere in your house, right?"

"Yeah, I know. Mattie's going to be a drill sergeant tonight."

"That sister of yours."

There was another pause, although it was hardly uncomfortable as the sounds of activities filled the space between them. "My plan was," Alfreda started, as she was hardly one to keep secrets, "was to get you here and drunk enough to confess your secret feelings for me. So drink up."

Arthur snorted. "I doubt any of your cheap stuff can get me adequately drunk to say anything I'll regret. I'll have you know I can drink as much as Francis."

"I don't get it!" Alfreda slammed her hands on the railing, shaking the balcony slightly and earning a few startled sounds from beneath their feet. Why anyone would crawl under the balcony to make out was beyond the both of them. "I keep telling you I like you! Perseverance should pay off, you know? Goddammit, Arthur, if I wasn't a modest young woman, I would have jumped you!"

"Do you remember when we were kids?" Alfreda stopped, surprised at this change of topic. Arthur was staring out into space again. "When we were younger. Damn, I've known you too long. But when we were around ten…well, at least you were ten, I was eleven…but I told you I liked you. Remember? And what did you say?" Arthur took a drink and pushed on. "You told me you would never go out with such a little brat like me. I don't even know what would possess you to say that. We'd gotten along for such a long time. I'd gotten over the fact that you were a girl and you were taller than me. Whatever. I guess it was the argument over tea. You always made fun of me for having tea parties."

"Who wouldn't? You're a man, Arthur. And I don't remember saying that."

"Well, you did. So I left you alone for all these years. And now you come up saying that you want me to go out with you? I don't think so." The bottle was now empty and Arthur chucked it into a nearby garbage can.

"Well, I'm sorry for stomping and crushing your eleven-year-old heart, Arthur."

"I didn't want you to apologize."

"Kiss me, Arthur."

And surprisingly, he did.

Alcohol was really a funny thing, but it was totally necessary, Alfred concluded. It was something that was absolutely useless and harmful, but hell, it made the strict, tight-ass student council president kiss her and not protest when she jammed her tongue down his throat. And when she broke away, tasting the alcohol and grinning widely at a noticeably drunker Arthur, she was happy to say that yes, her scheme had succeeded, if only for the time being.

Owari

--

Note: THIS AU. I LOVE IT. To clarify: Leia is Denmark and Remy is Norway, from the original Polish AU. I had to give them human names. Also, Nate is Belarus, if you didn't pick up. And while I'm aware that Igiko exists, I think it's great to know that America is the girl _and_ she tops. Damn. Texas and the Alamo, baby. It should be known I was listening to Lady by Lenny Kravitz while writing this. That should say something.


End file.
